


Fight or Flight

by Seagoatink



Series: Survival Isn't Pretty [12]
Category: Mass Effect
Genre: Anxiety, Anxiety Attacks, Colonist (Mass Effect), F/M, Paranoia, Post ME3, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-02
Updated: 2016-06-02
Packaged: 2018-07-11 18:55:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,217
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7066090
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Seagoatink/pseuds/Seagoatink
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>On bad days, she was a little more of a wreck than normal. On a normal day, she was not so jumpy, or jittery, or hyper-focused. But today was not a normal day. Today was a bad day and she was jumpy, jittery, and hyper-focused. Her senses overloaded her brain with too much information. Her heart raced. Any sudden noise could be a potential problem.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fight or Flight

Normally, Shepard was not a nervous person. She had withstood a lot in her life. Akuze, the suicide mission across the Omega 4 relay, facing down reapers. Almost everything before now had been nothing compared to picking up Garrus, his father, and his sister from the shuttle. But today was a bad day.

On bad days, she was a little more of a wreck than normal. On a normal day, she was not so jumpy, or jittery, or hyper-focused. But today was not a normal day. Today was a bad day and she was jumpy, jittery, and hyper-focused. Her senses overloaded her brain with too much information. Her heart raced. Any sudden noise could be a potential problem.

She had taken a taxi to greet them, because driving would be a problem. Once she arrived at the shuttle docking bays, a kid recognized her. Many others did too. After all, she saved not just the human race, but the whole galaxy. What she didn’t expect was the sound effect this brat had saved on his omni-tool. It was the sound of a reaper firing. That godawful sound invaded every inch of her being.

The last thing Shepard wanted to do was think about that. After all, she had landed on Earth not too long ago. She hadn’t even made a trip home to make sure everything was clean. As much as she hoped Joey had left their house clean, he probably had not cleaned. She had asked him to do so. But after a trip on a civilian ship, then a shuttle to Earth and then that sound, she could barely keep her anxiety at bay. Had she had more time she would have visited the clinic, but there wasn’t much time and she was only able to grab something to eat.

The wait was enough to help her calm back down, but it did not counter the bad day vibes. When Garrus, Solana, and Talus finally exited their shuttle, Shepard stood. She hadn’t seen them in a few months, because they were on Palaven. Garrus took quick, long strides past his family, making sure he was first to greet her with a hug. 

A taxi shuttled them to the outskirts of a small town. It was primarily a farming community, stocking up what they could to feed livestock as well as the general population for the year. Her home was quiet, save for the early hours of the day when the farmers were most busy. Off of Cheska and Joey’s plot of land were pigs, goats, and cows. They had a few silos, two barns, a machine shed, and even housing set up for the other workers and farmers.

As suspected, the house was a mess. Dishes from early breakfast with the farmhands were everywhere. The floor was covered in dirty tracks left from boots no one took off. Cheska was almost afraid to check on the rest of the house not shared with everyone else. After taking off her shoes she ran her hand through her hair and sighed.

Joey had knowingly signed his death warrant.

“I remember it looking a little differently last time I was here,” Garrus said as he stepped through the door with his luggage. Turians seemed to pack light. They were a military based race, so they had no need for different clothing styles like the many civilians on Earth. A majority of what Garrus brought along was his sniper rifle, pistol, and military gear.

Shepard could only assume his family packed in a similar fashion. “Yeah, that’s Joey for you…” She grimaced. “You’re in the same room as last time,” Cheska said, pointing at Garrus. “I’ll show you two your rooms.”

While her guests unpacked and had a look around the house and property, the commander decided it would be best to clean up to the best of her ability. She started with loose trash, then moved to things that needed to be put away. After that came sweeping and mopping the floors. 

As she moved on to wash the dishes, anger towards her brother began to bubble up, causing her to scrub more intensely at any little speck of stuck on grime. Her muscles tensed up and began cramping. Cheska groaned and stretched out her arms, hoping to ease the soreness. “Dammit Joey,” she grumbled, picking up the sponge again and dipping it in the soapy dish water.

A hand came to rest on her shoulder. The commander reacted almost instantly, turning around with a well aimed fist. It would have hit Garrus in the stomach had his reflexes not caught her by the wrist, effectively stopping her punch. 

“DON’T FUCKING-” yelled Shepard before slamming her eyes shut.

Garrus watched as she bit her lower lip and winced. Not at the pain from biting herself, but from trying to regain control from her panicked state. “Cheska, talk to me,” he finally said. There was a lot he had learned about humans in the past year. When working for C-Sec, comforting people wasn’t usually necessary. But Shepard had been elevated to a more “secure” job where she was not allowed to simply kill when placed in a difficult situation. “I need you to tell me what’s going on,” continued Garrus.

Shepard opened her eyes. She was still attempting to force herself out of her panicked state. Her eyes were wide and welling up with tears. Had this not happened before, Garrus would not have recognized her anxious expression. “I can’t,” she cried. Her voice was high pitched, unlike her usual alto tone, and almost hollow sounding.

The commander looked as though her knees were going to give out, so he held onto her shoulders. “You can’t what, Shepard?” He said, trying to prompt an answer.

“I have to run,” she answered.

That was not an answer Garrus was expecting, however he never expected Shepard would have so many problems post war. Her regularly occurring inability to get out of bed was the source of many problems for her. “Why do you have to run?” The turian found himself asking.

Once, months ago, he had been invited to one of her psych appointments. It was revealed to him that the best way to keep her from dissociating was to keep her talking. Essentially, if he could, Garrus was suppose to work her through the process of figuring out why she felt the way she did. Of course, that was if she could figure out how she felt.

He had learned a great deal of other problem solving skills during the hour long session. Now, this was most important. When she opened her eyes and stared up at him, he noticed the tears caught in her eye lashes. She was not crying, but she was definitely struggling against her breakdown. “I don’t know. I have to run.” Even with her response, she did not move to run. She held her arms close to her chest, her shoulders were stiff and tense. 

Had Garrus not kept his arm around her waist, he was sure she would fall to her knees. “How about we walk instead?” He offered as calm as he could manage. “Do you know where you want to go?”

The two ended up taking a walk outside. It was dark and the sun had already set, so strolling alongside the road was not an option. The farmhouse held many alternatives, including through the fields of recently harvested crops. Regardless, they did not stray far from the house, barn and silo. Cheska was not sure if wolves or coyotes still inhabited the area nearby and decided it was best not to risk it, even if Garrus had his guns on his person.

When she finally cooled off, Shepard led Garrus back inside through the kitchen. His sister and father had made themselves comfortable in the living room. “I’m headed to bed, I’ll see you in the morning,” said Cheska to her guests. Not being one for open displays of affection, she hugged Garrus and left the living room for her bedroom.

Solana glanced at her brother as their father flipped through the stations. “You might want to see this,” she said as Talus switched the channel yet again.

This time a human was hosting the news. In the corner of the screen was a video from earlier in the day. Garrus was able to recognize Commander Shepard almost immediately. It wasn’t just her height, it was the way she moved: ducking away, behind, and fluidly going for a sidearm that was not there. “Commander Shepard, Savior of the Galaxy, had an episode early this afternoon after-”

The video now took over the screen and the news reporter was moved to the corner. The sound of a Reaper attacking blared through the television speakers. Down the hall, something clattered to the ground. The moment captured by someone’s omni-tool played on repeat, the sound of ultimate doom continued to play. Slowly it was drowned out by the newscaster’s voice.

Shepard’s meltdown finally began to make sense. “Thanks,” Garrus said curtly and left the living room with haste.

“No problem,” Solana muttered as Talus changed the channel yet again.

Garrus entered Cheska’s bedroom. Her hair brush and other accessories sprawled across her dresser and across the floor. The bedspread was missing and the sheets were a tangled mess. The pillows were missing too. One was probably stuffed behind the headboard too. Garrus had seen this only once before, as Shepard was rarely in a position where she did not have a gun. But this was supposed to be a getaway of sorts for her.

“Shepard, it’s only me,” he said carefully as he slid the door shut behind himself. “I saw what happened today,” Garrus added, “at the airport.”

Across the room, he noticed the door to the closet begin to move, but only slightly. She was watching him like a scared little girl. He imagined she had done something similar when the Batarian raiders came to her colony. “I want a gun,” Cheska mumbled from the closet.

“I have a gun,” Garrus informed her as he crept closer to the closet. Instead of joining her in the cramped space, he settled on her bed.

Shepard stuck her hand out through the crack in the doorway. “Give.”

“You know I can’t do that, Cheska.”

Instead of responding further, she shoved her fingers under the door and pulled it closed again. She could still see him from the crack by the door, even though it was completely closed. Garrus knew it too. But admitting he could see her would not help the situation any. On the other side of the door, he could hear her repositioning herself.

“Are you going to sleep in there?” The turian asked. The last thing he wanted was for her to fall asleep in the closet, all alone, and in a panic that would only be worse when she woke up. There had been several times where he asked Joey for advice on what to do, only to receive a disinterested reply, coupled with a shrug. Her counselor, therapist, and psychiatrist had all stated that most humans differ, and for someone with a history as long as Commander Cheska Shepard, there were many possibilities.

He could see one eye peer out from the darkness of the confined space. “I’m probably not going to sleep tonight,” she admitted.

“That’s alright, you don’t have to sleep,” replied Garrus. Of all the things humans experienced, he probably understood nightmares and military life the most. Oddly enough, most of the horrors he witnessed were with humans rather than other turians. The Citadel did have gruesome times, but that was before Commander Shepard. “We can watch some vids instead,” he offered, hoping she might show him some of the more retro ones from before humans found the mass relays. 

There was more shuffling behind the door. When the closet opened, Cheska revealed herself in a way. She was wrapped up from head to toe in bedding provided to humans who lost their homes, a standard military green blanket and white pillow. “We have to go to one of the dextro markets tomorrow…”

“I can have Solana worry about that,” Garrus offered, knowing his sister would understand if he wanted to stay in and take care of his girlfriend.

The human waddled around in her blanket and sat down on the bed next to her boyfriend. She quickly shook her head, before leaning on him with full force. “No, I don’t want to stay here,” Cheska said. Her eyes were glassy, from crying and because she had long since zoned out. “I never really had a reason to go there anyway.”

“Yeah?” Garrus asked as he wrapped an arm around her and pulled her close.

“Yeah…”

He looked down at her. “Why not?”

“I can’t eat dextro-amino food… Most people I know can’t either.”

“That’s news to me,” Garrus laughed, attempting to tease her into talking a little more. Perhaps it would help ease her out of her trance-like state as well.

Instead, she sunk down into his arms, then rested her head on his lap. “You’re pretty boney,” she muttered.

“I think I’m pretty too, but the word you’re looking for is probably not boney.”

**Author's Note:**

> I meant to post this a while ago but never actually finished it until just now! I really enjoy focusing on Shepard's PTSD because I have PTSD so this is moreso a reflection of how I am when I have an episode. Sometimes I like to imagine people or characters are helping me in the same way Garrus is helping Shepard :)


End file.
